


Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright)

by Pineau_noir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anniversary, Coitus Interruptus, Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, H/D Sex Fair 2020, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Humor, M/M, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Married Sex, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Sappy, Smut, Widower Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineau_noir/pseuds/Pineau_noir
Summary: Sex is hard to come by when you're 40 and have kids.Or:Five times Harry and Draco tried and failed to have sex and one time they were successful.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 53
Kudos: 341
Collections: 2020 Harry/Draco Sex Fair





	Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone involved in this! To my beta reader G, thank you so much for the last minute, speedy and comprehensive beta. It was really great working with you. To the mods, omg your fest is so amazing, thank you so much for running it! I really appreciate all the work you do every year for this outstanding fest. To the Drarry community, thank you so much for being so fun and welcoming.

Harry doesn’t really like to travel, but when the Ministry tells someone they want them in Paris, in August when the weather is perfect and their children can stay elsewhere, that person had better well take their spouse.

At least, that was what Draco had told Harry upon the news of the trip. So they had traveled to France and were staying in a hotel on Rue Daunou. Draco complained that it was a bit _modern_ for Paris, but Harry liked that it had a large bed and bathroom. Plus, the decor was a little more understated than some of the ‘traditional’ Parisian hotels that Draco favoured.

An early International Portkey meant that they were both worn out after arrival and they had decided on a nap. An hour later, Harry’s refreshed but still feels a bit manky from travel.

Draco is smooshed against him, snoring a little in sleep, and Harry can’t keep back a little snort at how wrong he’d been about prim and posh Draco Malfoy before they’d started dating. The snort must disturb Draco, because he rolls over and mutters, “Whattsit,” and paws at Harry’s chest.

“Are you awake?” Harry asks.

“No,” Draco grunts.

“I’m going to shower,” Harry replies.

“Mmmm, wet Harry,” Draco mumbles.

“I need my arm,” Harry says, trying to pull free.

“Join you,” Draco says in response.

Rolling his eyes, Harry looks at Draco again. His hair is flat against his face as he peers up at Harry.

“I’m awake,” he insists, grumpy.

“Are you?” Harry asks with a grin. Then he leans over and kisses the tip of Draco’s nose.

“I’m awake enough for shower sex,” Draco replies. “But only if you do most of the work.”

Harry is more than OK with that. He rolls out of the bed, finally freed from his spider monkey husband, and walks towards the bathroom. They’re in a suite that has a glass encased shower with three showerheads and a little tiled seat. Draco probably knows what it’s called, but Harry hasn’t a clue. No matter the name of the fancy shower things, Harry thinks he and Draco can get up to a lot of fun activities in their room in the three days they’re going to be staying in France.

He reaches in to turn the tap on hot and waits for it to start to heat. Draco comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. They stand in silence until the glass starts to fog a little from the water, and Harry does a little temperature test. When he’s fiddled enough so that it’s still hot but not scalding, he turns and pulls Draco’s shirt off and his pants down. They’d taken off their trousers to nap, and Harry’s smiling at Draco’s sleepy compliance.

Draco has already gotten into the shower by the time Harry’s finished undressing, and Harry follows him in, closing the glass door. He’s stood under one of the showerheads, and Harry watches as the water cascades down his body. Draco’s hair is the colour of spun gold and his skin is starting to pink up from the heat of the water and Harry isn’t sure how he managed to marry Draco, but he’s really glad he did.

“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to do something while we’re both in the shower?” Draco asks.

Harry has to bite back his smile at the indignation in Draco’s voice. “What did you have in mind?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do any work,” Draco says back.

“You’re such a brat,” Harry says and pulls Draco so their fronts are touching and kisses him under the fall of the water. He nips at Draco’s lower lip and swallows his groan as Draco reaches around to grab Harry’s arse and _squeezes_ it.

Draco’s starting to get hard against Harry’s leg, and Harry’s more hard than not when they start to grind against each other. Everything is slick and hot and it feels like _years_ since they’ve had shower sex and Harry’s so glad Draco suggested it.

Reaching up, he pinches Draco’s nipple and smirks at the gasp Draco lets out. In retaliation, Draco slides his fingers in to gently stroke Harry’s hole. They’re doing little more than humping each other in the shower, but it feels like the most brilliant sex they’ve ever had.

Harry starts to nibble at Draco’s collarbone and Draco redoubles his efforts, stroking Harry until the very tip of his finger has breached Harry’s entrance. His finger is dry except for the water from the shower, so he won’t be able to finger Harry properly, but he’s doing amazing things with his finger to the bundle of nerves that surrounds Harry’s arsehole.

“I thought you weren’t going to do any work,” Harry says on a gasp.

“Changed my mind,” Draco says and then bites Harry’s earlobe.

Harry’s hips are shifting as Draco plays with his arse, and he can’t keep back a moan when Draco moves his mouth from his earlobe to the place behind Harry’s ear that’s always been sensitive.

“We need to change places,” Draco murmurs into Harry’s skin.

Harry can only nod, but he grabs Draco tightly and starts to move them around so they can do whatever it is that Draco has decided on. They’re halfway around their turn when Harry’s foot steps wrong and he starts to slide. Draco has the presence of mind to hold tightly so they’re fine.

“That would have been a disaster,” Harry says with a laugh. “Can you imagine falling—”

Then Harry falls, arms flailing and knees crashing into the hard tile floor.

“Fuck!” he shouts.

Draco must be in shock, because he’s standing stock still looking down at Harry, his erection still as large as ever.

“Well that was dramatic,” he says. “Are you going to be OK?”

Harry lets out a sigh. “Am I bleeding?” he asks, standing up and turning off the tap.

With some gentle poking and prodding, Draco pulls Harry to himself. “You’re fine,” he says. His shoulders are shaking a little and Harry has a feeling it’s from trying not to laugh.

“Don’t feel fine,” Harry grumbles. “Feel dumb.” His knees hurt, yes, but his pride is far more bruised than his body.

“You did look a bit daft falling like that,” Draco says with a smirk.

Harry looks down at Draco’s prick. “You’re on your own,” he tells it, reaching for a towel and trying to leave the shower with any sort of dignity.

“Harry!” Draco exclaims. “You can’t help looking daft, it’s your default setting.”

“See if you get any this holiday,” Harry says with absolutely no bite. He’s having trouble keeping back his laugh at the look of dismay on Draco’s face.

“I love you,” Draco says with a pout.

Harry loses his battle against laughter, and Draco joins him, the noise echoing off the glass doors and tile of the posh bathroom.

“Maybe tomorrow, after my knees stop hurting, we can try again,” Harry allows. “But in the bed.” He wraps himself in the fluffy towel and snickers at Draco’s, “You’re the _best_ husband” that follows him.

“Love you too,” Harry says, turning back to the loo. “You’re still on your own with your cock.”

——

It’s the first year at Platform 9 ¾ with the whole Potter/Weasley clan for Draco and Scorpius.

“This is so much better than last year!” Scorpius says, almost vibrating out of his skin in his excitement.

Draco lets out a sigh and looks for Harry. His husband is waving furiously whilst talking to Hugo, no doubt reliving the Quidditch match from last night.

Looking back down at Scorpius, he pulls him into a half hug. “It certainly is better,” he agrees.

Last year had been Scorpius’ first year at Hogwarts without his mother. Draco was dating Harry, but things had been too casual for Draco to want to share Scorpius’ attention. Astoria had only passed eight months prior and they had both been a little emotional.

 _This_ year, however, Harry and Draco are newly married, and Scorpius finally has siblings. A house full of Potters has done him a lot of good. He’s still a bit of an odd duck, but it’s apparent he’s easier in his own skin.

“I’m glad you’re happy again,” Scorpius says, almost too softly for Draco to hear.

“Me too,” Draco answers, pulling Scorpius into an actual hug. Knowing his son is fourteen and that he’s probably easily embarrassed by too many displays of affection, Draco keeps it brief.

“Your mum would be very proud if she could see you, you know,” he says as they break apart and feels his heart break at Scorpius’ smile.

“She’d be very proud of you, too,” Scorpius answers. “She would love all of the new family.”

Albus comes to pull Scorpius away, letting them both know that the train’s boarding and that if they want to make sure to get seats together, they need to go.

Before his son is swept off by his best friend, Draco hugs Scorpius again. “I love you,” he says, too low for anyone but Scorpius to hear.

“Love you too, Dad!” Scorpius says at volume, seemingly not caring if his peers can hear.

Draco is once again struck by how different from Scorpius he was as a teen, and he lets out a sigh of relief. His son deserves every good thing Draco can give, and he’s so proud to see how easy he is with his affection. He watches as Scorpius hurries off to board the Hogwarts Express and smiles as Scorpius turns back to wave frantically at Draco with a big grin.

Harry finds him, still standing where Scorpius had left him.

“Doing OK?” he asks as he embraces Draco and kisses him sweetly.

“Happy,” Draco says. “A little sad,” he admits. “Lots of feelings.”

Moving in to nuzzle Draco, Harry whispers, “Things are a lot different this year, aren’t they?”

Draco nods, and enjoys the way Harry’s stubble scratches his face a little.

“It’s OK to miss her, you know.”

And Draco’s eyes tingle at Harry’s intuition.

With a sigh, Draco pulls away. “I know,” he says, “but I don’t want to get blubbery here.” He looks around the busy platform where people are starting to stare but haven’t reached the outright gawking phase.

“Apparate home?” Harry asks.

Draco nods and holds out his arm so they can Side-Along, and there’s the familiar pull in his gut, and then they’re home.

“I’m getting a drink,” Harry says. “Do you want anything?”

Drained by the hustle and bustle at King’s Cross, Draco decides he wants something stronger than tea. “Firewhiskey?” he asks.

“Sure, love,” Harry says, and goes into the kitchen to get it together. Draco stays in their sitting room and looks at all of the pictures on their walls. There are plenty of baby pictures and group pictures, but Draco’s eye is drawn to the triptych of wedding photographs.

Harry and Draco’s is in the centre, Ginny and Harry are on the left, and Draco and Astoria on the right. It had been an _interesting_ request from his husband, but Draco’s glad they had put all three up. It’d helped significantly that Harry and Ginny had parted amicably and were still on good terms. And Draco knew it meant a lot to Scorpius to see his mum on the wall with all of his new family.

Draco’s swept away thinking about the memories of his wedding day: the nerves and resentment of the arranged marriage mixed with hopefulness that he and Astoria might lead a much different life than their parents. Draco had never expected to marry for love, only duty, and his face in the photo shows his resignation. They had never loved each other romantically, but they had found love for each other as friends and confidants. Before Astoria’s death, they had carved out a little bit of happiness that Draco had never expected. Her death had been a blow to both Draco and Scorpius, but she had urged Draco to look for love after she passed.

Draco felt his eyes start to water as he thought about the selflessness of his wife.

Letting his eyes move to the picture of his wedding to Harry, it provides a stark contrast to his first wedding. His cheeks are red, and his eyes glow from happiness. He smiles as he watches Harry sweep him up into a kiss and then whisper something to his photograph self. He remembers _exactly_ what Harry had suggested and feels his own cheeks heat at the memory. Harry had more than delivered on his words that night.

“That was a fun night,” Harry says easily when Draco notices he’s back in the room.

“I was just thinking about how different my weddings were,” Draco admits, settling himself on the sofa.

Harry hands him a tumbler of amber liquid and ice, and Draco takes a sip, savouring the slight burn.

“I’m sorry today is so hard,” Harry says, joining Draco on the sofa and pulling him close.

“Scorpius was happy. So that’s something.”

“Wish you could be happy too, love,” Harry replies.

Draco sets his firewhiskey down and pulls Harry into a kiss. “I _am_ happy, Harry,” he says. “I didn’t realise how happy I could be until I was adopted into this large, mad family.” He pauses to think of how to say what he wants in a way that won’t hurt Harry’s feelings.

“You feel like you’re disrespecting her memory, being happy, don’t you?” Harry saves Draco the trouble of figuring out his words.

“I wouldn’t—”

“You prat,” Harry says fondly. “You know all Astoria wanted was for you and Scorp to be happy. She practically had ‘someone please date Draco Malfoy and bugger him senseless’ engraved on her headstone.”

Draco lets out a little laugh and leans his head down onto Harry’s shoulder. “I do know that,” he whispers. “But on days like today, it’s harder to believe.”

Draco hears, rather than sees Harry put his glass down on the side table, and his eyes are still closed when Harry tilts his chin to kiss him.

“I love you, and Astoria loved you, and neither she nor I would want you wallowing in guilt. However, suppressing your emotions is so much worse, so I suppose, wallow away.”

With another little laugh, Draco pulls Harry into another kiss. They trade lazy, almost chaste kisses for a few moments before Draco opens his mouth and lets Harry in. He welcomes Harry’s tongue and caresses it with his own. Harry moves to straddle Draco and his hips start to shift in Draco’s lap.

They’re starting to kiss passionately; Draco thinks it’s Harry’s way of taking his mind off the grief he’s feeling. Harry kisses down Draco’s neck and worries at the spot that usually drives Draco spare, where his neck and shoulder meet. It feels good, but Draco’s heart isn’t in it, and Harry notices it quickly.

“No?” he asks gently.

“Sorry,” Draco says.

“No,” Harry whispers. “Don’t be sorry.” He gets off of Draco’s lap and sits by him, awkwardly.

Draco leans over to wrap Harry’s arm around his shoulders. His heart breaks a little for the sadness he sees on Harry’s face.

“Would a nap help?” Harry asks.

Nodding, Draco adds, “After we finish our drinks.” Then, he says, softly, “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course, my love.”

——

Hermione is the first one of them to turn 41.

Harry’s still coming to terms with being 40, so he gets a little sozzled at her party.

Make that _a lot_ sozzled.

“‘Ow are you so pretty?” he slurs to Draco.

“I’m leaving you here,” Draco threatens him.

Harry gasps. His _husband_ turning on him? At the residence of his _best friends_? How _dare_ he?

“I dare, darling, because you’re not half drunk,” Draco replies.

“Oh, did I—”

Draco sighs. “Yes, you said it all aloud.” He shakes his beautiful head at Harry. Harry—who… yes, has had several glasses of firewhiskey in addition to the signature cocktails Feorge and Gred have made—is struck dumb by how shiny Draco’s hair is.

“And your eyes are the colour of a foggy morn’ after the rain,” Harry tells him. “So lucky to have you as my husband.” Then he launches himself at Draco and pulls him into a full-body hug. “Love you,” he murmurs into Draco’s neck.

“Potter,” Draco says. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Nobody cares,” Harry counters. “They all know I’m ‘bsessed with you.”

“Ronald!” Draco shouts, making Harry’s ear hurt. “I’m taking Harry home.” He pulls Harry away from the corner he’s lurking in and makes him sit on the sofa in the sitting room. Then, with a _look_ , says, “Don’t move. I’m going to get our things.”

“‘K,” Harry says and slumps into the sofa cushions. He watches as Ginny chats up someone in the corner and feels himself start to giggle when he realises who it is.

“What are you laughing about, Harry?” Hermione asks as she joins him on the sofa.

“Gin’s flirting with Pansy-fucking-Parkinson at your party.” Harry hiccups on his laugh and points. “Somehow we have the same type, post-break up.”

With an answering laugh, Hermione turns to look. “I’m glad you two stayed friends,” she says when she turns back to Harry.

“Never been an issue of being friends,” Harry says. “More of an issue of us _only_ being friends.”

Hermione pulls Harry into a sitting, half-hug. Harry lets himself relax into her and takes a discreet sniff of her hair.

“Harry,” Hermione says seriously. “Two things.”

Harry nods.

“One, we all want you and Ginny to be happy, so I’m glad you’re both so supportive of each other. And two, did you just sniff my hair?”

“OK, that’s my cue to drag Harry home,” Draco interrupts. Gently grabbing Harry’s arm, he pulls him out of Hermione’s embrace. “Don’t sniff people,” Draco scolds gently.

“Sorry, ‘Mione,” Harry says, pulling himself close to Draco and shoving his nose into Draco’s neck.

“Don’t sniff me _either_ , you prat!” Draco says, laughing.

Harry retaliates with a deep inhale and revels in Draco’s shiver. “I want to smell you all over,” he whispers.

“Draco, take your husband home,” Ginny says.

“When did you get here?” Harry asks, confused. “Weren’t you snogging Parkinson in the corner?”

“Harry,” Hermione interrupts them all. “Go home.” She looks up at Draco and shakes her head. “He’s going to be a terror tonight,” she says.

“Draco’s never a terror,” Harry says, offended on his husband’s behalf.

“She means you,” Ginny says, smirking. “But Draco has certainly been a terror during his life-time.”

“If we’re done,” Draco says, voice crisp, and good Merlin does Harry love when his voice goes all posh and proper and his consonants are sharp. “I’m taking Harry home.”

Looking at Hermione, he says, “Happy birthday. Thank you for having us.”

Turning to Ginny he says, “We’re all aware of my past-transgressions, girl-Weasley, and if you’re interested in my best friend and want my approval, I would suggest you keep a civil tongue.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “Take good care of the father of my children, Malfoy.”

Draco smiles at her. “I will,” he promises. “Take good care of Pansy.”

With a leer, Ginny says, “Oh, I will.”

Harry can’t keep back his chuckle. He remembers how Ginny is when she’s ‘taking care of someone,’ and he mentally wishes Pansy good luck.

“If that’s all settled,” Hermione says, putting herself between Draco and Ginny, “then will you both stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing in my sitting room? I don’t know if you’re all flirting or fighting, and honestly, they’re both a bit disconcerting.”

“Yes, we’re supposed to be going home,” Draco says. With his arm on Harry’s, he walks over to the Floo.

“Bye, everybiddy!” Harry shouts. A chorus of ‘bye, Harry and Draco’ starts up and Draco grabs a handful of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantle.

“We’re going in together,” Draco says. “I don’t trust you to Floo home alone.” He pulls Harry close as he steps into the green fire, and suddenly, they’re in their flat.

Harry grabs Draco’s arm and starts pulling him towards their bedroom. “Meant what I said about sniffing you all over,” he says. “You always smell so good everywhere.”

WIth a fond smile, Draco lets himself be herded down the hall and into their room. “What if I want to be the one sniffing?” he asks.

“We can both sniff each other!” Harry declares and pulls his jumper over his head, tossing it into the corner where he thinks the hamper is.

Draco steps into Harry’s space and pulls him flush against his chest. He gently runs his nails up Harry’s back and Harry can’t keep back his groan.

“You’re very weird,” he says leaning down to kiss Harry.

And Harry… well, Harry’s glad to kiss him back. Draco tastes like grapes and cheese and olives and home, and Harry could lose himself in Draco’s kisses. He lets Draco set the pace, only breaking contact when he needs all of his focus to start unbuttoning Draco’s shirt.

He reaches the bottom button and watches as Draco shrugs out of the shirt, the faint whisper of cloth over skin making Harry hot.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, stepping back into Draco’s space and pressing their now bare chests together.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Draco answers, steering Harry towards the bed.

Tripping a little, Harry lets himself fall back onto the bed. He tries his best seductive look up at Draco.

“What are you doing with your face, darling?” Draco asks with a frown. “Are you going to sick up?”

Harry frowns but flutters his eyelashes. “I’m seducing you,” he explains.

Leaning down to kiss Harry, Draco says into his mouth, “Don’t do it like that, you look ill,” and then he slips Harry some tongue. Harry shrieks internally and Draco pulls back.

“Quit,” he says, moving Harry so their heads are at the top of the bed. “Quit doing weird things with your face while we’re snogging.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” Harry says, trying to capture Draco’s mouth again but only succeeding in licking his nose.

“No!” Draco says sternly, and _wow_ , Harry did not realise he’s got a bit of an authority kink. “We’re not doing this, Potter.”

Harry frowns at being demoted from ‘Harry’ to ‘Potter’.

Rolling off Harry, Draco starts to pull his trousers off. “You’re far too drunk to fuck,” Draco says once he’s down to his pants. “Can you even get hard?”

Looking down at his crotch, Harry sees that he’s, unfortunately, still soft. He lets out a gasp when Draco gently cups him.

“I think with some effort,” Harry starts.

“No, love,” Draco says, gently. “We’ll have to try this again another night. You’re in no state right now.”

Sighing, Harry lets himself roll over onto his stomach. “Fine,” he grumbles into his pillow. “But you owe me a blow job tomorrow morning.”

With a laugh, Draco gets out of their bed and moves to the ensuite bathroom. “If you’re up for it in the morning,” he says, “I’ll be happy to deliver. But I have a sneaking suspicion that you’re going to want a Hangover Potion more than my mouth.”

Harry gasps. “I’ll _never_ want a potion more than I want your mouth!” he insists.

Draco’s answer is lost as Harry falls asleep.

——

Draco’s never been with someone like Harry. He’d fucked his way across half the continent before he and Astoria settled down, but he’d always been with sleek, well dressed people. Harry is the antithesis of all of Draco’s former flings and significant others. He’s unpredictable and inventive and messy and so carefree in his physical contact, and Draco loves every second of it.

Case-in-point, Harry’s plans for their night in. The children are still in school for another month, and Harry had suggested they take advantage of having the flat to themselves and no plans. He’s three fingers deep in Draco and _slowly_ fucking Draco with them.

Draco’s got his knees in a deathgrip, up as far as they go to give Harry as much room as possible to work. He feels a bit like a pig on a spit, but Harry’s eyes got dark when he first assumed the position, so he reckons something must be working for him.

“Can you spread yourself any wider, love?” Harry asks, nipping at Draco’s inner thigh.

“I can try,” Draco huffs out. He’s able to widen his legs, slightly, and Harry moves so his shoulders are wedged between Draco’s thighs. Leaning down, he licks a slow stripe up Draco’s prick.

“Taste good,” he murmurs, making Draco shiver.

Harry looks up at Draco, and he looks like he wants to fucking _devour_ him.

Draco, for his part, has no objections.

“Still comfortable?” Harry asks.

With a wiggle, Draco takes stock of his body. The stretch in his legs is a little more than he had anticipated, but he’s not quite gone to pasture yet. He and Harry are both fairly active still and go on walks together and sure, he’s not twenty anymore, but he’s certainly not old. The mattress under him is soft and supportive and his back feels fine; his hands are a little sweaty from holding his legs, but it’s more of a nuisance than anything.

“The worst thing is that I can’t really see you,” Draco admits.

“Next time,” Harry promises and wastes no more time in taking Draco down his throat.

Gasping at the sudden change from nothing to Harry’s wet, warm mouth, Draco squirms on Harry’s fingers, still fucking into him. He’s overcome by the sensations and starts to feel himself tense as he hurtles towards orgasm.

Then suddenly, “Ow! Harry, stop!”

Harry’s head pops up, and Draco almost kicks him as he rolls over.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, voice frantic.

Draco’s curled up in the foetal position and letting out little gasps, sure he’s permanently injured himself.

“Draco!” Harry sounds scared. “Are you OK? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry!”

All Draco can do is groan and rub at the back of his left thigh.

“Do I need to call a Healer?” Harry asks.

“Hurts,” Draco says in a small voice.

“Where?”

“On the back of my bloody leg, you berk!” Draco shouts.

Harry lets out a loud sigh and then a relieved giggle.

“Are you fucking laughing at me?” Draco demands as he rubs his leg more. “You’ve injured me—”

“I think it’s just a muscle cramp, love,” Harry says in a gentle voice.

“It _hurts_!” Draco whines.

“I’m sure it does,” Harry says in a soothing voice. He rolls over to grab his wand and casts a Warming Charm on Draco’s leg and it starts to feel better almost immediately. Then he curls up behind Draco, his hard cock poking Draco in the back.

“I think I’m done for the evening,” Draco whispers pitifully, his leg still a bit tight.

Harry pulls him closer. “I thought so,” he says fondly. “I’ll survive.” He pauses and Draco _knows_ whatever Harry’s going to say next is going to be arsey.

“Will you survive, light of my life?” Harry asks in what is surely supposed to be an innocent tone.

“Oh, fuck off, Potter,” Draco groans.

——

“Hon,” Draco mumbles.

Harry grunts back at him. It's the first Sunday morning of Christmas hols, and they’re supposed to be enjoying a lie-in. The house is empty; Albus and Lily are spending the weekend with Ginny, James is with a friend, Scorpius is with his grandmother.

“Harry,” Draco whispers insistently.

“Too early,” Harry grumbles.

Then Draco curls around Harry, and _oh_. Maybe Harry will wake up early on a Sunday.

He rolls over to throw his leg over Draco’s hip, opening himself so Draco can gracelessly hump him.

“We can fuck, but I’m too tired to do anything athletic,” Harry says, making Draco huff out a laugh.

Instead of an answer, Draco reaches down and rubs Harry’s soft prick through his pants, giving it a gentle squeeze. Harry shifts in his grip, relaxing into his husband’s capable hands.

“Yeah,” Draco says, moving so he can nip up Harry’s neck, “give it to me.”

Letting out a groan, Harry moves to kiss Draco, morning breath be damned. Draco deepens the kiss and Harry feels himself start to get hard. He reaches down to grab Draco’s erection and makes sure to rub the damp spot at the tip of his boxers.

“Eager,” Harry says.

“‘S been too long,” Draco answers. “Pull your pants down.”

Nodding, Harry shimmies to free his cock while Draco does the same. They rub against each other, the dry friction _almost_ too much to be comfortable. Draco grabs his wand so he can cast a lubrication charm.

“Dad!” Scorpius’ voice thunders from the hall. “Are you and Harry awake? Gran said she wants to take you both out to breakfast!”

“Fuck!” Draco whispers as he and Harry roll apart, hastily pulling their pants back up. They have both moved to sitting when Scorpius bursts through the door.

“What did we say about knocking?” Draco asks, sharply.

“Be nicer,” Harry reprimands him.

Draco flops back onto the bed with a grunt. “Sorry, Scorp. We’ll be out in a few.”

Scorpius smiles at Harry and even though he’s a cock-blocking teenager, Harry feels an answering smile cross his face at Scorpius’ obvious joy.

“We’ll be down soon,” Harry reassures him.

“Hurry up!” Scorpius chirps as he runs out of their room. “Gran says I can order a quad espresso!”

“Why did we have kids?” Draco groans as they listen to Scorpius tear back down the hall.

“Because they’re the light of our lives?”

“Ugh,” Draco answers.

——

It’s their anniversary, and Draco’s damned if he’s not going to fuck his husband. Or be fucked by his husband. Or _anything_ with sex.

All of the children have been in their flat since they came home for Christmas, and Harry’s Silencing Charms are rubbish, and Draco’s too self-conscious about the size of the flat, so they’ve gotten by with a few lack-lustre handjobs in the two weeks since they’ve had a full house. But it’s Boxing Day, their _anniversary_ , and the start of Ginny’s time with the Potter children. She'd also graciously extended an invitation to Scorpius.

Well, Draco thinks, she was a bit sleazy in her offer, but she’s still allowing Scorpius to spend a couple of nights away, giving Draco and Harry some time alone.

Draco had ordered takeaway from Harry's favourite restaurant and had been sure to only serve small portions so neither of them would over eat and be too full for sex.

But now dinner’s over and Draco has _plans_. Not solid plans, just nebulous ones really—he only wants mutual orgasms, but it’s still a solid goal. Harry laughs as Draco shoos him to the sitting room.

“Big plans tonight, husband?” he asks as Draco follows closely behind. “I noticed you only gave me a half portion.”

“We both know we would eat every last bite of our curry and be too full to fuck,” Draco says back. “And I have plans.”

“Do you?” Harry asks as he pulls Draco in for a kiss.

Draco can’t answer for a minute because he’s too busy kissing Harry. When his mouth is finally free, he says, “It’s our anniversary, Harry. We’re going to enjoy some adult activities in the bedroom.”

This time it’s Draco who pulls Harry in, and he wastes no time nipping at Harry’s lower lip and gently fucking Harry’s mouth with his tongue. He swallow’s Harry’s groan and starts to mouth along Harry’s jawline.

“What exactly do these plans entail?” Harry gasps out.

“They’re not specific plans, Potter,” Draco mumbles. “Just the general idea of you naked and writhing.”

“Look who’s gotten spontaneous in his advanced age,” Harry teases.

“We’re the same age,” Draco insists, still nibbling at Harry’s jaw. He moves to the lobe of Harry’s left ear and gently bites, and, thankfully, it shuts Harry up.

Harry’s silence doesn’t last long. Seconds later he asks, “Are we going to fuck in the lounge?”

Annoyed, Draco shuts him up again by shoving his tongue back into Harry's mouth. Pulling back for a brief moment, he asks, “Why do you have to be so annoying all the bloody time?”

Instead of answering, Harry smiles and replies, “I love you so much, Draco,” and Draco melts a little.

He does take Harry’s actual question into account and decides their bed is a much better place to be naked.

“I thought we would have a celebratory drink, but I don’t think I can wait that long,” he admits, feeling his cheeks heat.

Harry doesn’t look disappointed in the slightest and kisses Draco again. “Then let’s take this to the bedroom,” he suggests, sensibly.

They hold hands as they walk down the hall, and Draco cannot believe this is his life. He had never let himself imagine being this deliriously _happy_ with his spouse, but now that he’s got Harry, he’s going to work the rest of his life to keep him.

“I love you too, you know,” he says when they’ve reached their room.

With a soppy smile, Harry pulls him into another kiss. Draco angles him towards the bed and gently pushes Harry toward it, only stopping when Harry’s knees have hit their mattress. He sits, and Draco leans down to kiss him again.

Harry’s mouth is warm and slightly spicy from their curry, but so familiar, even after such a short time.

“Didn’t realise you could smile so big while you kissed me,” Harry murmurs, and Draco lets out a little laugh.

“‘M just really happy,” Draco says.

“I can think of several ways to make you happier,” Harry replies, smirking.

“Do tell.”

Harry pulls back and looks Draco in the eye. “You may not have planned anything specific tonight, but I certainly have an idea.” At Draco’s nod, Harry continues, “I thought I would get you naked in our bed and spend as much time as I could worshiping your body before I fuck you into the mattress.”

“That’s quite the plan,” Draco squeaks out.

“Does it meet your approval, love?” Harry asks, his eyes dark.

Draco huffs out a little laugh. “I can’t believe _you’re_ the one with a plan tonight.”

Harry’s smile is bright in their room. “I didn’t want to overplan, but I did have an idea of what I wanted.” He looks around the room and grabs his wand. With a few lazy waves, the door shuts, the lights dim, and a gentle, warm, breeze starts to move in their room.

“Is this part of the plan?” Draco asks, leaning down to kiss Harry again.

“Yes,” he answers, “but the biggest part of the plan involves us both being on the bed.”

Draco’s happy to comply. Harry moves so he’s on the far side of the bed, and Draco lays down next to him.

“What’s the next step of the plan?” he asks when they’ve both settled.

“Getting you naked,” Harry answers.

With a fond smile, Draco starts to unbutton his trousers.

“No,” Harry says, stilling his hand. “I thought I would do it for you.”

“If you insist,” Draco says, settling back into his pillows. “I’m happy to just lie here for you to do whatever you had in mind."

Harry moves so he’s half on top of Draco, his leg slung over Draco’s hips and his upper body against Draco’s. “I want to kiss you as I undress you,” he says in lieu of answering.

“You _have_ come with a plan,” Draco says, a little impressed at his usually fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants husband. He stops talking at Harry’s hot look.

Harry starts his exploration by kissing Draco’s forehead, then moving down to between his eyebrows, then the tip of his nose, then his mouth. He doesn’t spend long there, moving to nip at Draco’s earlobe, then down to suck a spot into Draco’s neck.

“If you leave a visible spot on my neck, I will—”

“I’ll Heal it,” Harry reassures Draco.

After a second of thought, Draco agrees that’s acceptable. “Well, carry on then,” he says, grandly.

Harry giggles into his skin and it tickles Draco a little. The sensation fades as Harry starts to bite and suck at the same spot, treading the line of pain-pleasure that makes Draco non-verbal.

“Ugh,” he groans.

Harry moves so he’s slotted in-between Draco’s legs and Draco’s hips shift at the new spots of contact. They’re both well on their way to being hard and Draco can’t keep his hips still, shifting and arching under Harry, rubbing their pricks together.

“Plans, love,” Harry reminds him.

Draco rolls his eyes, because since when has _Harry_ been the patient one? But he does as bid and stops rubbing himself against Harry.

Harry rewards his compliance with sharp little bites down his neck until he’s at the collar of Draco’s shirt.

“May I?” he asks, running his hand down Draco’s buttons.

His mouth starting to go dry, Draco can only nod.

Harry takes his time unbuttoning the shirt, kissing and biting at each spot of exposed skin. Draco feels a bit like a present being unwrapped and he revels in the feeling of being pampered and _worshipped_.

When Harry’s down to the last button, he noses at Draco’s cock, which has become fully hard with all of the kissing and biting. He doesn’t spend long, and Draco can’t keep back a disappointed sigh.

“All in due time,” Harry promises him. He moves back up to help Draco take his shirt off completely.

“So gorgeous like this,” Harry whispers. He leans down and starts to suck more marks into Draco’s skin. “Do you mind keeping one of these after we’re done?” he asks, looking a little embarrassed.

Draco knows his smile is fond when he answers, “If it makes you happy, darling.”

“Have we reached the pet name portion of the evening?” Harry asks with a smile.

With a sigh and an eye roll Draco nods. Draco’s never been one for overly flowery terms of endearment, but with Harry’s focus on him, sometimes they slip out.

Harry is gentle when he moves up to kiss Draco again, and Draco lets himself be consumed. There are bright spots of pain where Harry has sucked bruises into his neck and torso, but Harry’s warm and solid against Draco. After a few seconds, Harry moves down Draco again, this time focusing on his nipples.

Draco’s prick is throbbing by the time Harry moves from his left to his right, and Draco can only roll his hips, searching for friction. He feels Harry's huff of laughter against his skin, but he ignores it in favour of moving his legs up around Harry until their hips are pressed together.

“Am I being mean?” Harry asks. Draco’s eyes have shut sometime during the proceedings, and Draco can’t pinpoint when it happened, but he can _hear_ the smug grin in Harry’s voice.

“You’re still dressed; I’m barely undressed,” Draco whines. “I thought you had plans.”

Harry gently kisses Draco’s eyelids and Draco lets out a huff.

“If it’s too much, I can speed up—”

“No!” Draco says quickly. “I’m being a brat, don’t listen to me.”

“Draco,” Harry’s voice is suddenly serious. “Please look at me.”

Draco cracks open his eyes and even the dim lighting is harsh to his eyes after they’ve been closed for who knows how long.

Harry searches Draco’s face for a moment. “If it’s too much, you have to tell me. I want this to be fun for us both, love.”

With tears starting to form, Draco chokes out, “I know. It’s not too much.”

“Don’t cry, Draco.” Harry’s voice is a little frantic.

“I’m just happy,” Draco says. “Horny and happy and a little overwhelmed by everything.”

“We really can stop—”

Draco cuts him off with a hard kiss and pulls his legs tighter around Harry’s middle. “If you stop now, Potter, you’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”

Draco knows he’s said the right thing when he feels Harry’s body relax.

Between kisses, Harry insists, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“I will,” Draco promises. “But if you’re not fucking me in like, half an hour, I’m going to be very put out.”

Harry’s laugh is everything Draco had hoped it would be.

“I think I can keep to that timeline,” Harry says. Then he pries Draco’s legs off of him and wriggles down his body until he’s sat between his thighs.

“I believe it’s time to worship your lower half, love,” he says quietly.

Draco, whether it’s from the sudden chill of not being covered by Harry or his words, feels himself shiver as his upper body is covered in gooseflesh.

“Help me get you out of your trousers and pants,” Harry instructs, and Draco has never been happier to follow Harry’s lead.

They get Draco completely naked in record time, and Harry spends a few seconds staring at Draco. Cock twitching at the intensity of Harry’s gaze, Draco can’t hold back a sound.

“Harry?” he asks and Harry knows what Draco wants because suddenly they’re pressed against each other, from shoulders to ankles.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” Draco points out.

“If I take them off,” Harry says on a gasp, “this will be over far too soon.”

Draco takes a second to preen. Harry bites his nipple and Draco’s arousal is once again pulled to the forefront of his attention.

“Git,” Harry says, licking over the spot he bit.

“Prat,” Draco counters.

Harry gently bites again and Draco concedes defeat.

“Please,” he begs.

“Please what?”

“Please...Harry?” Draco asks.

With a giggle, Harry clarifies, “No, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t care,” he admits, feeling wanton as he rubs his naked body all over Harry’s fully clothed one.

Harry sits back on, resting his arse on his heels. “Do you want me to drag this out or get you ready so I can be inside you?”

Draco rolls his shoulders and considers his options. “Honestly?” he says. “We both had an early morning, and as much fun as this has been, we will both eventually get too tired to finish.”

“Plus there’s cake,” Harry says.

“Plus there’s cake,” Draco agrees.

Molly had dropped off the top tier of their wedding cake while they were both at their respective jobs. Originally, Narcissa'd had a problem with their wedding cake not being the traditional fruit cake. Molly had quickly changed her mind with the quality of their strawberry and dark chocolate cake, Draco’s favourite flavour combination. Unlike when Draco and Astoria wed, Draco and Harry weren’t going to have children, so they had agreed to have the cake on their first anniversary instead of the christening of a new child. Draco didn’t put much stock into too many traditions, but he wasn’t going to argue with one that gave him cake.

Eating cake had been the furthest thing from Draco’s mind after they had finished dinner, but he’s glad Harry’s remembered it. It will be a nice treat when they’re both sated.

“Use the store bought stuff,” Draco says as Harry starts to take his clothes off. “It always feels nicer than the Conjured lube.”

“So romantic,” Harry says, but he reaches into their bedside drawer to pull out the phial. He whispers a gentle charm and Draco knows the lubricant will be body temperature.

“You’re so clever,” he says, and Harry’s answering smile makes Draco’s heart stutter in his chest.

Harry gently puts the phial back on the table and lowers himself onto the bed. He pulls Draco close, and Draco sighs at their nearness.

“Even if we stop now, this will be an amazing anniversary,” Draco admits.

“But we’re not stopping now.” Harry’s not asking and Draco shakes his head in agreement.

“No, we are _not_ stopping.”

They kiss and Draco lets his hands wander, finally able to feel all of his husband. He gently rakes his nails up Harry’s back and smiles at Harry’s gasp. Their cocks bump against each other until they’re lined up, and Draco starts to roll his hips in counterpoint to Harry’s gentle thrusts.

They’re both leaking, so the friction isn’t uncomfortable, but Draco wants more. He rolls over until he’s straddling Harry and their pricks are together. Harry takes them both in hand, his calloused palm making Draco shiver and tingle all over.

“Do you want to finish like this?” Harry asks.

“I believe you said you were going to fuck me into the mattress,” Draco answers in his most prim voice.

“That can be arranged.”

Harry gently pushes Draco off and moves him so Draco’s on his front.

“Don’t want another leg cramp, love,” he says.

“At least I haven’t fallen in a shower,” Draco counters.

“Neither of those were our finest moments, were they?”

Draco can only laugh. “I think it’s just part of getting older,” he allows. His next words are cut off when Harry spreads his cheeks and there’s the quick chill of a cleaning spell.

“It’s embarrassing when you just stare at it,” Draco grumbles.

“But you’re so pretty,” Harry says in a quiet voice.

And, well, if Harry thinks Draco’s arsehole is _pretty_ , who is he to argue? He tamps back his embarrassment for as long as he’s able before he says, “Are you going to do anything or just stare all night?”

Harry leans down and presses a soft kiss to the small of Draco’s back.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just got a little carried away.”

Draco can feel the bed move as Harry reaches over to grab the phial of lube. He lets out a little hiss when Harry’s finger starts to breach his entrance.

"Too fast?" Harry asks.

“No, it’s perfect,” Draco says. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Harry doesn’t answer, but he lets his finger slide deeper into Draco’s arse. Draco responds with a guttural groan.

“You always make the best noises, love,” Harry says as he starts to gently fuck Draco on his finger.

“Mm, thanks,” Draco grunts out. Harry takes that as a sign to gently rub Draco’s prostate, making Draco let out a high pitched noise that, under any other circumstance, would be mortifying.

“I like it when you’re too worked up to speak,” Harry admits as he pulls his finger out. “Two?” he asks casually.

“Arsehole,” Draco groans out. “Yes, two.”

“I’ll give your arsehole—”

“Don’t,” Draco interrupts. Because if there’s anything that will kill the mood, it’s a bad joke.

“Fine,” Harry says, a little petulant, but he starts to push two fingers into Draco.

It burns a little; they don’t often have time for penetrative sex, but Draco knows Harry will make it worth his while. Harry rubs Draco’s lower back with his free hand.

“OK?” he asks.

“I will be.”

Harry pauses and twists his fingers a little and Draco lets out a gasp. He pushes a little deeper as he twists his wrist, and the smooth slide from the lube combined with the way Harry’s moving his fingers has Draco rubbing himself against the sheets.

“Unf,” he articulates.

“You’re letting me in so well,” Harry says, and Draco spares a moment to wonder when Harry got so good at this.

He stops, and Draco can feel his knuckles against his rim.

Draco can feel sweat start to build at his temples and the back of his neck. The sheet underneath him is starting to get wet from his precome, and the wet fabric feels spectacular against his hot prick. Harry’s making little humming noises behind him, and he pulls his fingers out a few centimetres before thrusting back in. Draco gasps again.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers. “You look so gorgeous like this.” He keeps lazily fucking Draco until Draco feels like he’s going to _explode_.

“Harry, I need to come,” Draco says in a strained voice.

“Can you take one more, love?” Harry asks. “We don’t—”

“I’ll be fine!” Draco insists.

“For my sake,” Harry says.

“Ugh,” Draco says.

“You know that’s not an actual answer and—”

“Yes!” Draco shouts into the mattress. “Fuck me with one more finger before you fuck me! For Salazar’s sake, get inside of me before I die!”

Draco can feel Harry’s laughter and he curses his husband in his head. But Harry follows through, and Draco’s suddenly glad he suggested three fingers.

“Wait!” Draco says, high and reedy.

Harry doesn’t answer, but he does keep petting Draco with his free hand. Draco takes a few deep breaths and wills his body to relax.

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Harry says when Draco’s let out his fourth slow exhale.

“I’ll be fine, I just want to kiss you,” Draco says. “I need you to distract me.”

Gently pulling his fingers out, Harry waits as Draco rolls over. He settles himself beside Draco before he grabs the phial of lube and slicks his fingers up again. Gently inserting two fingers, he starts to scissor Draco open. Then he pulls all the way out and puts three fingers back in and leans up and captures Draco’s mouth with his own.

He’s almost reverent when he kisses Draco. His lips are so soft and gentle, and the almost-there flicks of his tongue are making Draco yearn for more. Draco can feel Harry’s cock, hot and hard against his hip, and when Harry bites the tip of Draco’s tongue, he realises he’s relaxed and there’s no hint of a burn.

“I’m ready, Harry,” Draco whispers, trading hot breath with Harry.

“How do you want me?” Harry asks.

“On top?” Draco asks. “I want to see you.”

Harry nods his assent and grabs their one pillow that’s slightly bigger than the others and wedges it under Draco’s hips.

Draco spreads his legs and waits as Harry crawls between them. Harry scootches forward until his cock is bumping into Draco’s arse.

“Ready?” he asks, and Draco can only nod and wrap his legs around Harry’s waist.

Harry pushes in, slow but deliberate, and _oh_ Draco’s really glad Harry stretched him so much.

When he’s full seated, they both pause and catch their breath. Draco’s gone a bit soft from the stretch and moving around, but blood starts to fill his cock as Harry leans down to kiss him, his stomach brushing Draco’s erection.

“You feel so good,” Harry whispers into the damp air they’re sharing. He still hasn’t moved, giving Draco ample time to adjust. Draco shifts his hips under Harry and smiles when Harry lets out a gasp.

“ _You_ feel good,” Draco murmurs back.

Harry starts thrusting, little, tentative thrusts, until Draco’s fully hard from the movement.

“You’re not going to break me,” Draco grumbles.

Instead of being baited, Harry starts to roll his hips and leans down to kiss Draco again. Their kisses are uncoordinated, teeth and noses bumping more often than not, and it’s the farthest thing from Draco's past lovers, but it’s _Harry_ , and Draco wouldn’t trade this slightly bumbling, almost awkward sex for the world.

They finally figure out their angles as Harry continues the steady roll of his hips and Draco reaches around to grab Harry’s arse.

“Harder,” he insists. “Or faster. _Something_ ,” and Harry huffs out a little laugh.

He does as Draco demands and starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts, lifting Draco’s hips up as much as he can in their position, and suddenly he’s brushing against Draco’s prostate. It’s too irregular to be anything more than a tease, but between the time Harry’s spent getting Draco undressed and ready and everything he’s doing _now_ , Draco’s about to scream.

“I need to come,” he pants. “Do you want me to—”

He’s cut off when Harry reaches down and grabs his prick with the hand that’s still slightly wet from lube. Draco loses his breath for a second, but soon enough he’s pushing up into Harry’s hand and back onto Harry’s cock and he’s stuck in a perpetual motion machine of his own making.

Harry finishes first. Draco hadn’t counted on that, but he’s always gotten really worked up by teasing Draco, so he’s not completely surprised. But one second he’s tugging at Draco’s prick, and the next his hand and face have gone slack and he’s mindlessly thrusting into Draco making little ‘ah, ah’ sounds. Harry lets out a rush of air and thrusts into Draco once, twice, thrice, before he stops and leans down to kiss Draco again.

“Do you want to finish like this or in my mouth?” he asks, still gasping a little.

“Harry, your mouth,” Draco says. “Please, Harry,” he begs. “And your fingers?”

Draco’s face is screwed up and he shakes a little when Harry pulls out and slides down his overheated body. Every fibre of Draco is on fire, he’s burning, he’s going to burst into flames, and then Harry’s mouth is a warm, wet, tight balm around him and Draco explodes.

Some horrible sound emits from his chest and Draco doesn't have it in him to care. Harry’s lets his head fall until it rests gently on Draco’s hips.

“Didn’t even get a finger in,” he says, biting at the bone.

“Don’t,” Draco says, swatting inefficiently at Harry’s head. “Too much.”

“Oh!” Harry sounds pleased. “You’ve gone monosyllabic. Always thought I could get you there.”

“Hate you,” Draco grunts.

Harry bites Draco’s hip again. “You’ve made me incoherent before, love. I think I’ve earned a little smugness.”

“Fuck off,” Draco says.

“Still monosyllabic!” Harry declares, delighted.

“Eat dirt.” Draco can’t lift his head, and he’s only sort of protesting Harry’s crowing, but he can’t give in to it; otherwise Harry will be insufferable.

“How about I go get cake instead?”

Draco nods. “That would be appreciated,” he says and laughs when Harry’s pleased look falls.

“Oh, please, Harry, you knew I was mouthy when you married me. Just because you’ve fucked my brains out doesn’t mean I’ll forget my extensive vocabulary for a prolonged period of time.”

Harry lets out a sigh, and Draco watches appreciatively as he gets out of bed and pads towards the door.

“I’ll just go get the cake then,” he says.

“Hey, Harry,” Draco says as he opens the door.

Harry doesn’t answer but he turns around, an inquiring look on his face.

“I do love you, you know.”

The look on Harry’s face is somehow better than the spectacular sex they’ve just had.

“I love you, too,” Harry says back.

Draco can’t control the soppy look he’s got on his face, and for once, he’s glad to be so completely, utterly open for another person.

“Harry?” Draco asks.

“Yes?”

“I do still want cake.”

Harry’s laughter fills the hall as he walks away to grab their dessert, and Draco reckons it’s been a pretty perfect anniversary.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


End file.
